


Flaming Hearts

by AnnaCipactli12



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), The Tudors (TV), The White Queen (TV), the white princess
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Complicated Relationships, Family Drama, Gen, HUGE AU, set after Game of Thrones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaCipactli12/pseuds/AnnaCipactli12
Summary: Henry VII becomes enchanted by a red priestess, making his wife jealous and his mother worried.





	1. Beauty, lust and love

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I got after I watched the White Princess trailer. I have read the book and wasn't that impressed, but once the idea got on my head, I started writing and this is what I got. I don't have any clear idea of where this will be heading from. Depending on the viewers' response and if I get more ideas, it might be more than five chapters, or it might just stay a short story. Like the a song of ice and fire books, all chapters are from the point of view of one or more characters, so without further preamble, here it is. Hope you enjoy it!

**Elizabeth of York (I)**

There were a few people who were brave enough to stand up to Margaret Beaufort. Those that did, were put in Abbey, imprisoned, or in the case of her daughter-in-law, put into confinement under the excuse that she was pregnant (yet again).

Nobody expected however to see someone so beautiful, as beautiful as Elizabeth of York -it was whispered-, do this. But she appeared on the day that Prince Harry, which many of her followers believed it to be fortunate, got better from a cold he had been suffering from for over a month. Otherwise, Henry would have dismissed her as another whore from the temple of the red god whose only tool was her sexual allure.

Henry was a man and like any man he had needs. When he saw her, he was hooked. He knew that his wife’s mother was a witch but what he wasn’t aware of was that the descendant of Melusina, along with her eldest daughter, had cursed his line. The red priestess did know and intent on having the King of England in her grasp, she let the two enchantress’ curse work their way to his infant heirs.

When Henry heard of the curse, he screamed at his wife. He was about to slap her when he suddenly became calm.

Elizabeth looked confused. Henry was not afraid of taking advantage of her during their first night together but now … what had happened to him? He smiled at her and said “I am sorry” then added with a smile, extending his hand out to her, “I will make it out to you. You are right in hating me and I will never ask you to lay with me or do something that is against your conscience. You can recall your mother from the Abbey to be with you. You will be treated as the royals you are.”

“Thank you … Henry.” She said, completely baffled by his sudden change of heart. When her mother came, she didn’t like it one bit.

“I told you to get rid of that witch. She has enchanted your husband.” The Queen Dowager said.

“That is impossible. I have given Henry three sons and two daughters-“

“Two of who are dead. Who knows what she will do next. I can tell you this. Our curse is not meant to strike this fast. This can’t be normal. It must be her magic.”

“We descend from the river goddess where does Kinvara descend from? We have magic in our blood. Her magic depends on her fire lord.”

“I used to think that made us more powerful than our enemies but I have seen so many people dead because of my curses. I don’t want to see you hurt because of me. We must reverse it.” The Queen Dowager said. Her eyes shone with determination.

“How? You said that we couldn’t.” Elizabeth of York asked her mother.

“There is a way but it will cost you.” The former Queen told her daughter.

“Whatever it is, I will do it. Just tell me how I can lift it so I can have my husband and so I can keep him away from that woman.”

She no longer cared about the realm, or her brother under the pseudonym of Perkin Warbeck, languishing in the Tower of London along with her cousin, Edward Plantagenet, the Earl of Warwick. She just wanted her life back. God and her ancestress damn her, she hated to admit this but she had to if she wanted this to work. She loved her husband. She thought she could never love a man as cold as Henry, but she did. She had seen a side of him that people rarely saw, and it was that side of him that she wanted to see whenever she visited him again.

So she and her mother got to work. When Henry wasn’t in his bedchamber, she sprinkled rose and white petals beneath his mattress. The servants wouldn’t clean it since they knew where their master was. The following night, she got there before he did. He was surprised to see her there. She smiled, hoping to incite his lust as she had done before but all she got was an apologetic smile.

“I am sorry Liz, but I am too weary right now. And I don’t want to disappoint you.” He said moving past her, dismissing his servants who had followed him.

“You could never disappoint me. I am eager to please.”

“Of course you are.” He said in a soft voice, although his tone made it sound like he was mocking her.

“My lord … I can help you rest. You and I … just you and me tonight.” Elizabeth walked to Henry and wrapped her arms around his waist. He had taken his crown, his collar, furs and everything else except his hose and chemise.

As her hands moved further down, she could feel a massive erection beneath his hose. _Good._ Henry pushed her arms away then looked at her, really looked at her. The lust she had seen from him whenever they were together finally returned. Checkmate. She took off her chemise and got on the bed, leading Henry on. It took Henry less than two seconds to respond. By the morrow, they were both exhausted. Bubbles of sweat dripped from their forehead. A few servants came and Henry told them to go away and not to bother him for the remainder of the day.

The spell she and her mother had used was working perfectly. Henry had always loved her spirit, but he was never her love slave the way her father had been her mother’s. Elizabeth was happy to have him wrapped around her finger. Everything had worked perfectly.

* * *

**Kinvara and Henry**

Kinvara smiled at the poor Queen. Her friend. Doesn’t she know that a red priest is only friends with her god? He or She lives only for Him and His cause. It was fun nonetheless to watch the little games that this Queen played with her King. Best of all, the Dowager Queen thought that she was helping her daughter by turning the King into her slave but all she was doing was facilitating Kinvara’s plans.

Kinvara was no whore, but she wasn’t afraid to use her feminine wiles to get what she wanted. Why not take advantage of what the Lord of Light had given her?

When Henry found his wife was pregnant, he celebrated. The celebrations lasted for weeks, even when the Queen had gone into confinement. With her, were her mother and mother-in-law. It was nice seeing those last two getting along at last. And out of Kinvara’s way.

Eager to see Elizabeth, Kinvara gave him a delicious treat by doing the same thing that his wife did, only this time, she didn’t have to use cheap tricks to get the King to bed her.

When Henry saw her, he was appalled that Kinvara could go that far. Sure -he exclaimed- he had been enchanted by her looks and her wit, but those had faded away once he got a taste of the forbidden fruit which reminded him of why he was married to Elizabeth.

“My King, you are King because you won the battle with the lord of  light’s help. You have remained King because everyone agreed that you were a better alternative than your wife’s uncle whom she slept with. And lastly, you are King because you were not afraid to accept the huge burden that was placed upon you. Not you, or your mother, or other kinsfolk were responsible for your rise. They are indebted to you, not the other way around.”

She saw that her last sentence struck a chord with him. He hated being reminded that his crown was thanks to his mother and his wife. Kinvara smiled and approached him. The jewel in her neck shined brightly. “Everyone is where they are and what they are for a reason. I was brought to the red temple for a reason. You were your mother’s only son for a reason.”

She unbuttoned the front of her dress and let it fall, leaving her completely naked except for her golden necklace which held the ruby jewel that continued to shine brightly.

“Knowledge has made your mother powerful, so has it made the Dowager Queen, but there is still so much that they have yet to seen. I can show you everything I know, I can make you the most powerful king that ever lived, father to a great dynasty if you let me.”

Look away. His mind screamed. I can’t. He was falling deep into sin but he couldn’t step away from her sight. He hated himself for feeling this way. He was no better than Edward IV, Elizabeth’s father, who would take maiden after maiden, regardless of whether they consented or not. Dear God, he mentally prayed. Help me! But God had clearly abandoned him. Kinvara touched his arm. He was quivering with fear, although, Kinvara suspected that it had to do more with his insecurities, no doubt, a product of being on the run for so long and then coming home to a treacherous wife, a poor enchantress and a domineering mother.

Men like Henry were easy to read. Complex? Yes. Sure of themselves? No. If they were, they wouldn’t be easy prey for her. Women like Elizabeth, her mother and Margaret Beaufort on the other hand, were good schemers but so bad at giving people what they wanted. Henry Tudor was a man who wanted to be loved just like any other. He had been deprived of a mother and father figure. Chased by his late father-in-law and then Richard III, he had no one to trust but himself.

There was Jasper to keep him safe, but Jasper would never be the boy’s father and although he had come home to a mother who expressed joy when she saw him after fourteen years, the King soon discovered that she was no different than the people who had used him.

Henry was her vehicle to power. He was her tool. Nothing more. Kinvara was a woman who had come from the great war. Seen Daenerys’ three dragons defeat the army of the dead, seen a great King in the North of Westeros rule alongside his cousin-wife. She was not afraid of anything, and yet, her humble smile made her appear as the only one whom the King of England could confide with.

She waited. She didn’t have to wait long. When Henry took off his clothes, he did so very slowly, almost as if the clothes were too heavy for him to take off. When he looked at her again, his eyes shown guilt, fear, the same insecurities as before.

He leaned forward to kiss her. He was still shaking. Their lips parted. A tear fell from his right eye. “Do not be afraid. You are doing nothing wrong.” She assured him.

He kissed her again. This time it was easier. He wasn’t shaking anymore. He took her in his arms and put her on the bed. When he got on however, his doubts returned and to make things easier she whispered in his ear: “I will take her curse away.”

There was a pause. When it was broken he asked, the coldness he was known for returning in his voice. “How?”

She took his hand and guided it down to her sex. “Once you pledge yourself to the lord of light, he will reward you by giving you everything your heart desires.”

“I am a man of God.”

“God, Yawhe, Allah, they are all the same. He uses many vessels, many prophets. Some choose to see, others ignore his message. But often times, some of his messengers make mistakes and misinterpret his message.”

“What is to stop me then from seeing you as another false prophet?” Henry asked.

“I am not a false prophet. I was taught by the best at the temple of Ashaii after I was sold along with my mother.”

“Yes, I know. You’ve told me your life story many times. How is that any relevant? One of your many priests thought that one of the many claimants in Westeros was the true prince who was promised and look how good that turned out for him! He burned his daughter, caused his own death and his wife. What is to say that you won’t do the same once you have a revelation from your so called lord that I am not your savior?” Henry asked. The thought of her sharing a bed with another man made him mad with jealousy. He pushed her hand away and rose it to her neck. “What stops me from slaying you right now or burning you like the other heretics?”

“Nothing.” Kinvara said, delighted to see him jealous. “But ask yourself this: why did I choose you when I could have easily chosen the pretender, the King of Aragon, or the king of Portugal or any other monarch? Their armies outnumber yours, I could have easily lent my services to the pretender. That would have reversed your roles, with you as his prisoner and he as your king.” Her smile returned. “You do not have to worry about me. I came here to help.”

“Because your lord of light told you to. Tell me, what does your lord of light think about what you are doing?”

“I do not have to ask Him when He has shown me what you get when you lay with me.” Henry looked puzzled. She put her hands on each side of his face and slowly guided his face down to hers. As their lips met a connection was made and he saw what she had seen in her flames. Battles which he won, battles in which he lost. His wife celebrating his death, his wife lamenting he had not died. Then their eldest son as a man. A strong and young man who married a beautiful woman and their union was widely celebrated throughout Europe. They succeeded him and Elizabeth as King and Queen. _My son_ , he thought with regret. _He must be thirty there._ He looked like a mixture of him and Elizabeth. Everyone chanted his name. _That future will not come to pass._ He heard a voice say. _Your wife has ensured that all of your sons die before you do. When they do, she will release the pretender from the cells and crown him King in your stead. Your daughters will be given to him as bounty._

 _No!_ He mentally cried.

_It is true, why deny it? She never loved you. She and her mother cursed your line. You will never have children again unless you give yourself to the lord of light._

“I can’t.” He whispered, unaware that he had said his thoughts aloud. _You must!_ The voice said. _Do you want to see your realm secure? Do you want to protect your mother and uncle?_

Of course he did! What kind of question was that? _Then do it Henry. Do it! Give yourself to the Lord of Light._

Their lips parted and Henry looked at Kinvara again. God damn him. He was condemning his soul to an eternity in hell, but what did it matter when the woman he married and her mother had condemned his children. He would never forgive himself for this night, or the nights that would surely follow, but if this was the only way to keep England and his family safe then so be it.


	2. A Tired Woman they see

**Margaret (I)**

They say that behind every great man there is an equally great woman. In the case of Henry VII, it had been more than one until he fell for another one. One whose promises of fame and glory had become true. But like with everything in his life, there was a huge cost to pay and unlike before, Henry could have chosen not to pay it and still be King.

A reasonable man would have burned Kinvara and her ilk at the stake. When Henry became King, he surely would have. But Kinvara had shown him things that no other person had. She had shown him the truth of his wife’s origin, and the curse she and her mother had placed on his family. She had promised him love whereas others, including his own mother, promised him power. And she made him feel whole.

On the night that he laid with Kinvara, Elizabeth of York went into labor. It was long and excruciating. She screamed for Henry but Henry never came. For all of her mother-in-law’s knowledge in herbs, the midwives’ experience and her mother’s magic, she couldn’t be saved.

On the ninth of January 1493, she died, giving birth to her last offspring. Twins. They appeared healthy unlike their older siblings, Arthur and Margaret. They came to the world squealing and kicking. They were calmed down by their grandmothers’ voices. Unaware of the price their mother paid so the rest of her children could be safe, they giggled.

Margaret tried to get into her son’s bedchamber but for once, no one listened to her. Neither did they listen to the King’s uncle, who tried in vain to reach his nephew by shouting at him that he was laying with a witch and a cheap whore.

Their boy, the one they had molded into the ‘perfect King’ was lost to them. Nothing of the man who had listened to his mother and uncle’s wise council remained. The realm mourned the loss of their beloved queen deeply. Rumors arose that she had been poisoned by Perkin Warbeck with the aid of the other prisoner, Edward Plantagenet, who had many sympathizers in Henry VII’s court. The commons swallowed these rumors. Elizabeth Woodville and the others at the court didn’t and tried to stop Henry from signing their execution warrants, but Henry calmly told them that those who had hurt him would pay and that the evidence against them was incontrovertible.

On the 6th of July, months after Elizabeth of York’s death, the pretender and the earl of Warwick were hung.

Margaret visited her son and told him that she was leaving. Henry however didn’t let her, telling her there was much to be done and she would help him. Kinvara was there, smiling triumphantly at the older woman, daring her to say something stupid. Being the woman that she was, Margaret didn’t. Instead, she waited until her son was gone to give the red witch a piece of her mind.

“I do not know what magic you did but if you think you can ensnare my son with your cheap tricks, you are wrong. Go ask Elizabeth Woodville how she tried to best me. Go ahead, ask her. All the magic in the world will not be enough to keep me away from my son.”

“There is no need for threats lady Richmond. We both serve the King of England and we both care deeply for him.”

“Do not come to me talking about caring for my son. I carried him for nine months. I was only thirteen when I found out his father had died and I was at danger at being killed by the Yorkists. Every day I lived in fear for myself and my unborn child. When I was finally delivered of him, I thanked God and asked Him not to take him from me. But I had a duty to my family so I left him in the care of his uncle. I prayed for his well-being every day. I wrote to him while he was in exile, telling him that I loved him and that I was doing everything in my power to get him back. And now you have taken him away from me.”

“I have done nothing of the sort. If I wanted, I could have told him to send you home. Instead, I kept my silence and let him beg you to stay. You chose to stay because you love him. That is good, Henry needs good people around him.”

“He already has good people. Why don’t you go back to your brothel, your temple, whatever it is you call that place and leave us alone?”

She chortled. A soft laugh but mocking nonetheless. The way this young woman looked at Margaret, it was as if she saw her as something pathetic. “You are his mother. You gave life to him but he is not yours to keep. He has a destiny to fulfill. And he will fulfill it with or without your help. If you truly love your son, you will let him go and live his own life.”

Now Margaret was really furious. How dare this insolent bitch insinuate that she didn’t love him. She got close to her and slapped her. “If you cost my son his crown, I swear I will run Jasper’s sword through you.” She said then turned around and left.

Kinvara’s smile remained plastered in her face. Her eyes briefly looked down at her mid-section. It was a burden that only married women were meant to have, but she gladly accepted that burden when her flames showed her the children’s future, and what it would mean for England and the rest of Christendom.

* * *

**Kinvara (I)**

These Christians, she thought. Just because they want something, doesn't mean they ought to get it. Lollards were easier to deal with. They had a common enemy and in love and war, you had to use the cards your god gave you, to use them against your enemies.

She could walk with her head raised higher than any man or woman and this kingdom and bother to look down at those who raised their eyes at her, blazing with disapproval. The things she had seen were enough to make the strongest of men go mad. The High Priest had given a special task to minor priests, to go to Europe and do what had been tasked of them in Westeros. So far, their efforts had not been productive so he turned to Kinvara. Kinvara had a high standing with the dragon Queen and the King in the North of Westeros. She was among the most eloquent, intelligent, and beautiful of his flock who always provided him with results. Knowing the cheap tricks that had been used against the King of England by Elizabeth Woodville and her daughter, he chose her, knowing that she'd succeed where her fellow priests and priestesses had failed.

She was committed to her duty as she had been when she saw Daenerys in her flames, before she had freed the slaves in the major cities in Essos. England was no different than Essos and Westeros in that regard. Slavery was banned, but the common man and woman lived in conditions that were akin to those suffered by the Essos slaves. Their masters were the high clerics from the church, and the aristocrats who were blinded by their wealth, to realize what their sins were.

Then there was the King's mother. She had the nerves of steel that her late sister-in-law and her mother didn't possess, but she was just like any other aristocrat. She boasted that she made her son's suffering her own because he was her only child, but how could a woman who had been surrounded by wealth her entire time ever understand a man who had been chased by the greatest armies in England, and whose life was always in danger?

She allowed Henry to see things that no other people had been privy to, except the High Priest of Ashaii. That made him feel important and it also made him feel safe.

A smile drew on her face as she looked outside to see Jasper Tudor and other Welshman engaged in a heated discussion. Jasper had always tried to be the voice of reason and no doubt, he was trying again but what could he say to his fellow Welshman to get him to abandon his worries about her. She turned around and headed back to her chambers, paying no heed to the whispers of lowly servants as they walked past her, their heads bent down, not wishing to make eye contact with her.


	3. Undying enchantment

_"_ **Margaret (II)**

“The whore is pregnant!” Margaret shouted at Jasper. “Pregnant! How could Henry have been so stupid? Now he can’t stop thinking about her. She is in his thoughts, his letters, everything. Kinvara this, Kinvara that. I can’t stand it!”

“I know but perhaps it is good that she is. She will get fatter and Henry will lose interest in her.”

“I am serious, Jasper.”

“So am I. Margaret, you are over-thinking this too much. She is just a woman. Beguiling woman I will give you that, but just a woman. I can’t imagine you, the formidable Countess of Richmond who ousted another witch, could be so intimidated by this puny creature.”

“She is not like the Dowager Queen and her daughter. Whatever it is she has on Henry it is working. He has fallen completely for her.”

Jasper sighed. Sometimes he wished he could have the power these magical women claimed to have to calm Margaret down. _God knows, she really needs to be calm._ It was a miracle how she hadn’t caused herself a nosebleed (yet). “Look, as long as Henry continues to do his duties, then what does it matter?”

“I am his mother Jasper. I want him to know that I love him and only we -you and I- can protect him. We did everything to see him crowned and now, it’s like we don’t exist anymore.”

“People change. Henry is a grown man. And he has shown the people of England that he is a dutiful ruler. To him, you will always be number one. No one will take that away from you.” Jasper then told her something he witnessed when he and his nephew were in exile. “When we were in Francis II’s court, there was a big ball and Henry was nervous to ask some of the girls out. I told him not to be shy and what he should say. When he finally got the nerve to ask someone out, she whispered something in his ear which made him shake his head. I asked him what that was about and he said ‘she wanted me to go to bed’. Turns out the girl had been dared by her friends to take the ‘handsome Welshman’ to her chamber. I laughed and asked him he should go back and do it but he said ‘uncle, don’t you know that my mother is in England worrying about me? What would she say if she knew? I can’t bear to disappoint her.’”

He then added seeing her pained expression. “He loves you Margaret. He always has. Kinvara might ignite his loins, but you are his heart keeper.”

“Not anymore. He has given everything to that woman. I don’t want to see him fail Jasper. If something were to happen to him, I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“Nothing will happen to him. I promise you. Things will be fine. You have to trust me just as you always have. If she becomes a problem then we will take care of it.”

Margaret nodded, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

* * *

**Jasper (I)**

Jasper played with his oldest grand-nephew, prince Henry hide-and-seek. He hid in spots that would be easy for the young boy to find him so he wouldn’t throw a tantrum like he did before when one of his tutors refused to make the game easy for him.

Out of all of Henry VII’s brood, it was Harry and Lizzy who took after their mother the most. There was no denying it that Harry was the mirror image of his maternal grandfather, Edward IV, and Lizzy, the same as her namesake.

He wondered what kind of future these two would have. Harry could be a real brat sometimes, but he cared for people which was something good. While Lizzy was just a two-year-old so there was no way of knowing whom she would take after in character as she got older.

Screams were heard and Harry turned to him. “Is that her?”

Jasper didn’t need to ask who ‘her’ was. It was well-known that Henry was keeping that priestess as his mistress. While nobody could freely speak against her, Jasper wasn’t afraid to voice his opinion among his closest friends.

He nodded to his grand-nephew.

“Is … Is she really pregnant? I heard from some Westeros envoys that … that they birth shadow demons.”

“Those are just rumors Harry.”

“But what if it is true?” Harry asked, genuinely scared. “What if she gives daddy a shadow demon? I don’t … I don’t want a demon brother!”

Jasper chuckled at the little boy. “Calm down and sit down Harry. She is not going to give birth to a shadow demon. Those are just rumors. Lies. Understand?”

“I understand but … what is going to happen to it after she dies?”

“What makes you think she will die?”

“Women die when they have babies. My mom died when she had Lizzy and Owen. She is younger so she will not survive.”

Jasper found his logic terrifying but he had a point. This was probably the red priestess first birth and judging by her screams, she couldn’t be faring too well. She might die. He hoped to God that she would. _It will be the end of all our troubles_.

But to his chagrin, she didn’t. A messenger ran across the halls crying ‘the King has a son and daughter!’ Jasper turned to Harry whose eyes looked down.

“She did not die.”

“No, but you get a new brother and sister. That must mean something to you.” Jasper said to him, hoping that would get the prince’s hopes up. It didn’t. When Harry raised his head, Jasper saw in his eyes, a look of pure hatred. _He blames Kinvara for his mother’s death_. He wasn’t surprised. Most nobles did, but what could they say when her religion was growing and the King continued to be enthralled by her.

He began to think about what Margaret told him. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps this woman was a threat to the kingdom. But who knew, really. She had just given birth to a son and daughter. Royal bastards but bastards nonetheless. The King was still handsome, and given how royals disregarded one woman in favor of another (more) alluring woman, what was to say that he wouldn’t do the same when he was presented with someone else. _  
And those children mean nothing. They prove his virility, that is it_. Harry, Edmund, Mary, Owen and Lizzy would always be his main priority. Harry would inherit his crown and the rest would be married off to some king, queen or ruling duke.


End file.
